


Cleaning Up

by Lyledebeast



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathing/Washing, Dominant!Marian, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Marriage, Secret Identity, should really be a tag on all my guy/marian fics tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:59:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7833025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyledebeast/pseuds/Lyledebeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guy and Marian are married, but she continues to help people as the Night Watchman without his knowledge. She takes care of him after one of their encounters leaves him slightly injured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cleaning Up

**Author's Note:**

> I was reading Guy/Marian fic on FanFiction.net today and got inspired to write . . . this.
> 
> It's a teaser for a longer fic about Guy and Night Watchman!Marian that I've been planning, and should start posting soon!
> 
> In this AU, Gisborne Manor has not burned down, and Locksley Manor doesn't exist.

“Guy, please,” she sighed in frustration.  “I know it’s unpleasant, but it’s only going to take longer with you wiggling around like this.”

He stopped moving and the water in his tub settled, but his shoulders and neck remained stiff.  It’s a pity, Marian thought as she continued to scrub at the dried blood surrounding the cut the Night Watchman had left on his cheek.  He had been putty in her hands when she massaged the tension out of his shoulders, sore from the fall from his horse, and scrubbed the forest debris from his hair with mild soap, but his face.  It was always the injuries to his face that made her regret their altercations.

She and Much had been making a delivery of food to a single mother and her two boys who lived in Sherwood Forest when Guy and a handful of his guards had come upon them.  Recognizing her Night Watchman garb, they had charged.  Much had raced off on his horse with guards in pursuit, and Marian felt only a little worry for him.  He knew the forest well, and would lose them easily.  Guy had stayed on to do battle with her; he always did.

She knew there was some risk is standing in front of the horse as he charged towards her, but the gelding knew her, even if his rider didn’t. He had reared just as he reached her, sending Guy crashing to the ground.  The fall must have stunned him, because he was even less adept as a fighter than usual. He had only gotten close to her once, and that was when she had dealt the wound she was currently treating, and which had landed him on his back for the second time. Then she had then raced off into the woods where her own mount was waiting, high on the adrenalin rush that always accompanied her incognito fights with her husband.

But by the time she had changed and returned to Gisborne Manor, she was starting to feel guilty again.  She went into the stables to find the gelding already happily munching hay, and scolded him for abandoning his master.  The long walk back to the manor, on top of his injuries, had hardly helped his mood.

“Ah,” he hissed as she dried around the clean cut and applied ointment to it.

“It’s your own fault, Guy,” she said sternly.  “Why don’t you just leave the Night Watchman alone? Who is he harming?”

She uttered these words from behind Guy so he could not see the grimace that accompanied them. She hated referring to the Night Watchman as a man.  She had worked too hard to acquire her skill as a fighter to easily give the credit to another of a different sex.  Why, none of the men she knew were so skilled! And only Much, who had been her longtime friend in spite of their different social statuses, was brave and compassionate enough to help poor families like this one.

“Who’s he harming?” Guy cried incredulously, half-turning in the tub.  “How can you look at the state I’m in and ask that?”

She rolled her eyes.  “I see, so the Night Watchman attacked you and your defenseless, heavily armed guards and beat you up for no reason? Or were you, perhaps, trying to capture or kill him?”

“I was under the Sheriff’s orders to apprehend him, Marian, as you well know.” He grumbled the last part sullenly; it was a conversation they had had many times before.

“The Sheriff had you chasing the Night Watchman . . . in the forest? In the daytime?”

“What? No.  We just came upon him and . . . some companion.  Also masked, damn him!”

Marian held back a gasp of triumph.  She had to all but wrestle Much into his mask, but now it was the only thing that allowed him to continue to walk free in Nottingham, unrecognized by the Sheriff’s men.

“What were you doing in the forest, then?” she asked, hoping her eagerness wasn’t betrayed in her voice.  Keeping track of the Sheriff’s workings was a good way of knowing in advance who might need her help.

He looked up at her out of the corner of his eye, suspiciously.  Sometimes, he was willing to give her details, if he were in a particularly good mood when he asked, but now didn’t seem the right time. She would have to try another tactic.

“Bloody Night Watchman,” Guy cried with more fervor.  “I was just trying to do my job, and he . . . AH!”

He looked down to Marian’s hand on his chest, tightly pinching his nipple.

“Now, Guy, I want you to relax,” she said, authority creeping into her voice.  She loosened her grip and rolled the swollen nub between her thumb and forefinger.

“You can’t relax if you’re angry about the Night Watchman.”

“I can’t relax with _you_ doing . . . that,” he replied, but the venom was gone from his voice.  And he was lying, too.  He was slumped against the back of the tub, eyes closed as he enjoyed her attention.  She knelt behind him, pressing her clothed breasts against his bare shoulders as she reached around his side to lightly tweak his other nipple, drawing a moan.

“Keep your hands where I can see them, Guy,” she ordered as watched his fingers edge towards the surface of the water covering his lower half.  He groaned with frustration, but obeyed.

“I’m going to make you forget all about the Night Watchman,” she promised, stilling her fingers and pressing the flat of one hand against his belly, moving down towards the water.  “But you have to do as I say.”

“Yes,” he gasped, writhing as though the movement of his body would force her hand lower faster.

Abruptly, she stopped, ignoring his frustrated whine. “Dry off and wait for me in the bedroom,” she ordered.

He did as he was told, wincing slightly as the coarse towel made contact with his front.

Marian felt her blood quicken with familiar excitement.  She and Guy had only been married for a few months, but this had happened twice before.  She was so worried the first time she had beaten Guy in a fight after the wedding. Would spending so much time with her, and being so physically close, make it easier for him to recognize her?  But it hadn’t happened so far.  She had to admit that their encounters in the bedroom were . . . slightly different from those in the castle or on the streets of Nottingham at night.  After the second time, she could confidently name the peculiar feeling that filled her after these fights as arousal.  She enjoyed overpowering him, just as she did giving him pleasure and taking the pleasure he gave her.

That didn’t mean she didn’t feel a twinge of guilt about hurting him, or that she didn’t wish him less obedient to the Sheriff.  Her affection for him had grown more than she had believed possible before the wedding, but there were still many of his actions of which she disapproved. 

She banished those thoughts from her mind as she bent down to retrieve the towel he had left on the floor and draped it over the back of the tub.  There would be plenty of time to scold later.  Tonight, she would be gentle with him.  He had had a difficult day.


End file.
